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"None that I have heard of. I thought that the attendants usually kept hold of their charges."
"She stayed within reach, it is true. At least at the beginning."
"That is what I would expect," he said. "I am pleased that you had a good experience. Now I will leave you in peace," he smiled and returned inside.
Within a quarter hour, Cici burst into the garden, waving a wrinkled paper.
"Finally, it has come at last." Cici clasped the letter to her chest and trilled a few high notes, off key but definitely expressive. She thrust the page into Ronnie’s hands and instantly dropped into a chair. "He has been so tardy in writing to me, but this makes up for everything."
"So what does he say for himself?" Ronnie asked, closing her notebook.
"You can read it for yourself. He writes that Waterloo is full of visitors. Everyone searches the battlefield for souvenirs. Some people have them for sale, French sabres, and tattered hats, even cannonballs dug out of walls."
"Does he mention the injured?"
"Mostly the dead. They are still burying the bodies, he thought.”
"How gruesome," Ronnie said.
"He said they would be home soon."
"They? Who went with him?"
"He met a soldier there, one who fought in the battle, a hero in fact. He says he is bringing the fellow home, Ronnie. He is perfect for you, according to William."
"Oh, he is perfect? Handsome, heroic, and rich, then? Why does that sound unlikely?"
"Don't be so negative, Ronnie. You may have driven off Appleby. Now you will have to be content with a younger man, someone your own age."
"Does William say the fellow does not already have a wife?"
"Of course he has no wife. William would never suggest—"
"But does he know that for certain?"
"Oh, Ronnie, I am sure he would never suggest anything improper."
Her voice trembled.
“Of course he wouldn’t, Cici. I don’t mean to infer that he would. Forget I mentioned it." Ronnie knew that she could never get more out of teasing her sister except snivelling. Where William was concerned, Cici knew no subtleties. "I am very glad that he wrote to you Cici. Very glad indeed."
Her thoughts darkened.
She had almost rid herself of Lord Appleby, for which she ought to give Anthea a grateful hug. But before that was accomplished, here was another fellow she'd have to discourage.
Life could be exceedingly unfair!
Chapter Seven
For the last week, Ronnie had managed to sit in the garden on most days, for half an hour or more, listening to what various people were saying. They enjoyed the open air, and the garden was quite different from the beach, although the scent of salt air still reached them. The air was tinged with the perfume of the flowers, one of the favourite observations of almost everyone. Flowers and the songs of birds gathering in the shrubbery and in the ancient and immense oak tree which pre-dated all of the buildings on the Esplanade. She had her notes on garden improvements on the table when the Captain joined her one afternoon with a tea tray.
"I have a few suggestions," she said, gesturing to the list.
"I am all ears."
"One can never have too many blossoms, Captain Drew. Those smelling the sweetest also attract the birds and the butterflies. With a bit of research into the favourites of those creatures, perhaps you can attract even more. Many like to watch the colourful butterflies flitting from bloom to bloom."
He nodded, settling into a chair at the table, a first for his conversations with her.
